Apartment 406
by shianen
Summary: ...trying to find the words. That was another problem from before, back when we dated. Like, when we were head over heels and then started fighting. I never took the time to find the words. Should I tell her that? (Past DxC, future DxC?) (two-shot)
1. Chapter 1

"So, you're back. Again." The older woman stared at me from the arch of her apartment door. Carrying reusable bags in her hands, her face indicated she was close to calling the cops or falling back into her pattern of ignoring me.

I looked up at her, never actually hearing the elevator open or close. In my hands was a cracked cell phone. Quickly, I looked back down. Ran my fingers through my hair. "Yeah." I mumbled. "Still no answer."

The woman's gray hair was held in a scrunchie, thin split ends touching her neck.

Instead of saying anything, she looked at the door I stood in front of. Then, back at me. "What's your name, I could let them know how many times you've been visiting."

"Don't worry about it." I removed myself from the wall. Stuffed my phone in my jean pocket. "I'll try again later."

She hummed, and then nodded, seemingly dissatisfied with the answer. Then, she opened her apartment door, and let it slam shut behind her.

I watched her leave. Then, I looked back at the door in front of me. Finally, I sighed, and walked away, and down the emergency stairs. Four flights later, I left through the front door and walked to where I parked my motorcycle a block-and-the-half down.

* * *

Sometimes, I make mistakes.

Well, more than sometimes.

This time, I let it linger in my chest. Kinda like a candle slowly fading away; except, there was always an oil, or a piece of wood, to keep it alive. It sucked.

At dinner once, before I moved out, I told my ma about it. Her blonde hair bounced and she looked at me sadly. My brothers made fun of me.

When I was put on dish duty, she came up to me and said I should start writing, or keeping track of my feelings. "_Get it out of your system_." She basically said, except I think at the time she just wanted me to stay out of trouble, or something like that. I tried it for a bit, but then disregared the idea for smoking with my buddies and releasing it all.

They told me I was stuck on some bitch, like it was my fault I couldn't stop thinking about her and what we could've been. Whatever.

I stopped that too - the telling my friends my sober thoughts while high thing. Shit.

* * *

Later on, probably a couple weeks later, my pops was at work. And my idiot brothers were somewhere doing dumb shit, so it was just my ma and I at dinner.

My ma asked me how Gwen was. I stuffed a load of broccoli in my mouth to come up with some elaborate, smart-ass way of saying we broke up. She didn't watch the last season.

She waited for me patiently.

"_Dunno_." I mumbled, pushing my mashed potatos and broccoli together.

She asked if it was Gwen I was sad about. I shook my head; I felt like a child, a little boy confusing his feelings and his actions.

I wondered, at least later on that night, if that's what girls read when they read teenage trashy novels about girls in love with boys they never get until the very end. The struggling separation of brain and heart.

"_Were you ever feeling this way about her_?" My ma asked.

"_It was never about Gwen_." I scowled.

When I looked at my ma, in her blue eyes, I saw myself.

Back on the show, after the first season, when I asked my ma about dating and love and that shit on the ride home from the airport, she glanced at me and told me that she and my pops broke up three times before finally staying together. "_We grew up together, as kids, and teens, but then we left for college, both came back home..._" She rattled on and on like I've been told this story before. While she was talking, I was wondering if she was gonna talk to my pops about it later.

When I came back to the monologue, she said something I had never heard before. "_Sometimes, we fall in love at the wrong moment, but come back to the right one_."

I looked at her for a solid few seconds. I wanted to ask what she meant, but I figured I would find out anyways.

* * *

Everything is kind of a mess from that dinner. That was a month ago. Since then, I've done nothing to alleviate the situations. She taught me that word. Alleviate. What a fancy ass word.

Now that the show is over, for good, I can actually begin a life for myself. I don't like to talk about it too much. I haven't gotten in any (more) trouble.

This is a confession. Just probably not the one you were thinking of.

* * *

Prison sucked, but since they sent Mclean back I got out with some settlement and the charges erased from my record. Which really doesn't help, since people can just search my name on the internet and find all types of shit about me. The one nice thing is since I was underage, my records are sealed.

I can't really say if I changed or anything like that. Seems a bit extreme.

I re-watched _All Stars_. God I was such a tool. At one point, I had to stop and stare wide-eyed at the tv.

Then, I destroyed my room, throwing clothes and blankets and shoes around before finding the DVD. Taking out the one _All Stars_, I put the one I found in. This time, it was of _World Tour_. I skipped to the later episodes, watching her.

Well shit. We were more alike than I realized.

The jealousy. The attention. The façade. It was all there.

I guess everyone kinda knew we were more alike than let on. Even we knew it. The staff and Chris and Chef never really caught on, but we would sit late at night or early in the morning together and just talk. Sometimes I got up for a morning workout; sometimes she couldn't sleep. We'd talk about our families, our friends, all types of shit. And I mean I knew she was hot as shit and smart as hell, but her reactions to stuff, her motivations, her everything: it was me too.

Even in the later seasons, we would start to act like each other. That's just how it was. Her and I. She'd pick up something from me; I'd do the same. It even carried over into the later seasons, where I reacted _because_ she taught me how to. I wondered if she saw it already, or never even gave the footage a second glance.

* * *

In my new apartment, I live with DJ, which saves a lot of explaining myself while on tv. We have a system. It's cool.

Sorry, everything is kind of a jumble. In the month following my ma and I having dinner, I moved out. DJ just so happen to be looking for a roommate too. Found somewhere cheap and close enough to the city that the commute isn't shit.

We're starting to get our shit together. DJ does culinary school stuff, then works at one of the restaurants downtown. It's nice cause when he doesn't cook dinner he'll bring something back from there. I work too - at a mechanic shop. They told me to get rid of the green, and so I did. Most of my piercings I got to keep, had to get rid of the ones on my face, though. Which is fine, I wasn't really mad. I'm starting to get over them.

Oh, I'm in school too. A local community college. I'm only taking two classes, but it's a start. Business. My ma said I'd be good at it. She said I may be able to own my own business one day, which would rock.

DJ keeps in touch with a lot of the kids from our contesting seasons. We all liked him. A non-problematic guy. He asked me a few days after we had moved in if I kept in touch with anyone.

Geoff every once and awhile. So Bridgette by association. Zoey reaches out here and there, so Mike by association too. I mention the groupme everyone was added to by Sierra. I never use that thing, though, people just talk about dumb stuff.

My friend nods his head, doesn't really say much after that.

I don't have much to add either.

* * *

The first time I stood outside of the apartment door, I had a note on my phone of what I wanted to say.

The second time, the old woman had saw me for the first time. It was awkward.

After that, there were some decisions here and there of whether I wanted to walk into her apartment complex, so I just stood on the street.

Once, I saw you. You didn't see me though. I walked in the opposite direction. I wanted to stare though.

Last week, I finally told DJ about it. "_I've never been this tore up before, dude_." I think I worded it like that.

For some reason, it was different when you weren't fighting for a million dollars.

His eyes got really soft. Which is hard to manage, considering they always looks watery and sappy. DJ picked up another piece of chicken from the bowl sitting in the middle of our table. He asked if it was a phase.

I can't really explain how I looked at him, but it must have been enough to convince him that no, DJ, this isn't a fucking phase.

"_She probably has a new boyfriend that doesn't fucking cheat on her on international_ television." I mumbled.

He shook his head. He talks to Bridgette, who still hangs out with her. "_Courtney doesn't have anyone_." I may have read too hard into the way he spoke that sentence, but it made me furrow my eyebrow and get a bad feeling in my stomach. I asked what he meant.

* * *

I love her, I came to understand. We compared each other to other's relationships, to what we believed we wanted. This is all so much more higher level thinking than what I would've said when I was sixteen.

Our love language is unique to us. No one could come close to the way we spoke, we acted. Everything went to shit, and I think it was because of how young we were.

I stuck to my job and school this past week. I made no attempts to stop by her apartment.

* * *

DJ asked if I wanted to go out with some of the old cast for drinks. I declined and said I would rather shave my hair off. I think he read in-between the lines and assumed I believed my presence would make the social outing awkward.

He didn't ask again, or try to convince me. Just nodded and left. Mentioned dessert in the fridge from the restaurant. Don't mind if I do.

A couple hours after he left, I laid on my bed and wondered what she was doing right now.

* * *

It's hard getting rid of your old self.

To call myself a bad-boy would make me cringe. I sound dumb as shit. I did dumb shit.

I think I'm just me now.

That was one thing she tried to constantly tell me throughout our relationships. It was distorted severely, but the main point was loud and clear. I just misheard and misinterpreted it.

She knew exactly what I was able to accomplish if I put in the effort and had the motivation. I just wasn't ready for that reality yet.

It's so strange to see how others know you better than you know yourself. That shit is cliché as hell.

Unfortunately, it's just as true as ever.

I googled what a toxic relationship was the other week, and did my research. It fit what we were perfectly. Which sucks, because I already knew it before searching for a solidified answer. There was so much fighting, too much of it. We lost sight of what brought us together, and then stayed together (kinda) until, well, yeah.

Gwen.

That was shitty of me. I get that. I never really apologized for it. And then, I expected some kind of reward in the form of attention after the initial blow-up a couple seasons later. I didn't even know the two of them were friends, which, at the time, probably wouldn't have changed my reaction.

It was fresh, it was nice, it was something new. Until it wasn't. The difference between the two were the way they were with me. Gwen and I fell into something repetitive that didn't _not_ feel right, but it wasn't right for me. And she, well, she kept me on my toes. She challenged me. She was the fire underneath my ass I could never get rid of. And maybe I needed something different before I recognized that's exactly what I need.

I think back to what my mom told me about falling in love with the right person but at the wrong time. I wonder how often that happens to people, and if they know that. Because I didn't know that, or never thought about it, until a couple months ago. I can't say if I have a heart or not, but I can stay I feel the sentiment of that phrase.

_Total Drama _was toxic. It was a nasty place full of egotistical, greedy kids who wanted money for their own personal gains. Myself included in that group. We were all in the toxic relationship with the series, and we all kept coming back in some form for our own reasons. Popularity, money, friends, all of it is there. We all can be categorized into at least one of the words. The show should have never been created.

Yet, in a weird way, I'm thankful for it. I wouldn't have met Geoff or DJ or her without it. I wouldn't be able to look back on all the shit I did and laugh or get secondhand embarrassment from it. Yeah, I'm a bit thankful. I'll never say it to Mclean's face though.

* * *

I'm standing outside of the apartment again. I just got out of class, and rode my bike over here.

It's barely five minutes before I decide to leave.

When I turn around, I see the old woman watching me walk away, shaking her head back-and-forth.

During dinner, I tell DJ I went to the apartment. He asked if I knocked on the door. I let my silence answer.

He looks at me confused. "Have you ever knocked on her door?"

I feel like a pussy all of the sudden. Or, there's a huge spotlight shining down on me. "Naw." I mutter, taking my glass of water and chugging the hell out of it.

"Duncan, you gotta at least knock." DJ suggest.

"I don't gotta do shit." I respond. "My bad, that was-"

DJ shrugs his shoulders. "Nah, you're right. You don't have to do anything if you don't want to. But at least if you do something there will be a chance you get the outcome you want."

I blinked, and looked at him. "And what exactly do I want?"

The man looked at me with a raised eyebrow, almost humorously, before taking another bite of his dinner.

* * *

My thoughts have been all over the place ever since I came to realize my love for the first girl I ever cared about. I mean, I knew I loved her before, but this time it's real. This isn't puppy love, this is the real shit.

She may not know it as of right now, but I'd do anything for her.

Except get the balls to knock on her goddamn door.

The revelation is a bit consuming, because I'm getting distracted during class and at the shop. I start to wonder if she kept the skull, if our initials were still carved on Wawanakwa. I'm a sap. If I told my friends, they'd name-call me to no end. It's starting to come to a point where I don't care.

It's been another month. Getting a bit colder here. I stopped going to her apartment door because I wanted to make sure I had the right things to say for when we saw each other again. Hell, I hope she even let's me speak. Knowing her, she may still be pissed off about everything that happened, rightfully.

I wonder if DJ tells Geoff and Bridgette and whoever else about my regenerated feelings. They all probably sit in a circle, or at a bar, and call me crazy.

Well yeah, maybe I am a little crazy.

* * *

One night during the week I stop by ma and pop's house for dinner.

I tell my dad I'm taking classes, and he looks at me for the first time in I don't know how long.

When I tell ma about the classes being business-related, she starts tearing up.

Man, these people really had no expectations of me. Or didn't think I would do anything with my life.

My parents almost get into an argument when my dad asked if I was paying for the classes with drug money. Honestly, I can't blame him too much; that was the path I was beginning to veer onto.

I have a job, I explained, at the mechanic shop down off of Locust. I live with DJ, my friend from the show. Remember him?

They liked DJ, my ma said. He was a good influence for me. My pop shuts up, staring at me.

I have my ma's looks, her glaring blue eyes, her impulsiveness. But my father is the hardheadedness and stubbornness I carry on my back everyday. My reactivity, my anger, my silent, non-public display love, it's all him. I wonder if he sees himself in me sometimes.

He asks if I have a girlfriend. I say no. My ma looks at me, almost pitifully. She repeats my answer, sadly. "No?" I don't look at her.

* * *

My infatuation is slowly turning into a sadness. Probably because I'm not doing anything to alter the situation.

I think DJ is noticing too, because he started bringing home more dessert. I'm not a girl, but damn do I love dessert.

I gotta do something, y'know. See if the number I have saved on my phone is still hers, if when I knock on her door she'll answer, see if DJ has talked to her recently. Something to quench my thirst.

But at the same time, I can't. I can't re-enter her life, a life she constructed without my inclusion.

I'm sitting on the couch. The TV is on, but I'm not paying any attention to it. DJ is out doing something with some people from the show.

I wonder if DJ would help me think of something to do. I wonder if the old lady knew I never knocked on the apartment door. Maybe I should have knocked on the door. And now, I'm here, sitting in regret. It's raining hard outside. I hear it on the window.

It's coming to a point I'm thinking about whittling again. At least to get me distracted.

Then, suddenly, there's a knock on the door. At first, I ignore it, wrong apartment.

But there's another knock. One that's determined.

I sigh. Stand. Walk.

When I open the door, there's a moment of pure silence. I stare, I open my mouth, nothing comes out.

She's here. Courtney is here. She's staring at me like I'm a ghost.

Extending the door, I stand out of the way. She walks in.

She sits on the couch as I shut the door. I grab two glasses of water.

I sit on the couch. Give one to her. We stare at each other.

* * *

just taking a quick break from working on _Scales_ to write this, it was kinda plaguing my brain. I think it's a mess in terms of timeline, but I wanted it to seem like it was coming from Duncan's head, or him writing stuff out, so it's meant to look like this.

hopefully it was enjoyable! and shameless plug, but if you like Duncan and Courtney together, feel free to read one of my work's in progress _The Scales of Judgement_!

I hope everyone enjoys their week!


	2. Chapter 2

Ok. Hi all! So this was originally supposed to be one chapter, but a few people really wanted there to be a second part. I honestly didn't consider it until recently, and one year later, here we are! Hopefully you enjoy it!

* * *

"I didn't know you lived here too." Were the first words she spoke. I think I'll always remember them. No anger, no raised voice. Just a quiet shock.

There was a silence between us between her words and mine. I could say it all here, right now. I looked around the banal apartment; needed something to settle my eyes on so I wouldn't stare at her.

Courtney sat down on my living room couch. Holy shit. I'm four fucking feet away from her. "Uh," I started, resting my upper arms on my legs. Leaned forward and stared through the glass of the coffee table. "Yeah, DJ and I have lived together for a lil' bit."

Wiggled my toes through my socks to make sure this was really happening. "We split everything, like rent and electricity and shi - stuff. Sorry."

Out of the corner of my peripheral I saw a caramel hand sit the half-full glass on the table. "That's good." She responded.

I could hear her thoughts. Well, like not literally but I knew she was thinking. I just didn't know what they were - the thoughts, I mean.

"Sorry, that was random." I spoke again. Still looking down, "Didn't want you to think I was just sleeping on people's couches."

She responded much quicker than I anticipated, "Why would I think that?"

"Isn't that what everyone thinks?"

There wasn't an immediate response to that. I looked away and glanced in her direction. Courtney was looking at me with this _look _on her face. Fucking pity.

I'd become familiar with the look when I took her to meet my parents.

* * *

Well look at that, dad spoke, crossing him arms. But he still stood up when we walked in, a form of acknowledgement. He looked Courtney up-and-down. She doesn't look like a hooker?

"_Dave._" Ma's piercing eyes glared at him before her mouth curved up. She loved Courtney. Reminder her of when she was younger. "_Courtney_! _We are so happy to finally meet you_!"

Princess was never someone who was nervous meeting people for the first time.

I could feel her eyes on the back of my head. I'd imagine this _look _on her face, where she wanted to say something but knew her place. I turned and looked at her; I smirked and grabbed her hand. My face read "Told ya it was gonna be like this babe".

"It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Wilde." She spoke, confidently in a way that mismatched her gaze. I let go of her hand. She's a big girl.

* * *

"I didn't think that Duncan." Courtney's voice broke through the memory.

When I looked at her, she had this half-assed smile on her face. "To be honest, I didn't even know you were out of prison."

I cracked a smile back at her, understanding the humor behind her words now. A chuckle escaped my lips. "Been out for nearly a year now."

Her eyebrows raised, alarmed by the long length of time. I spoke again, "I know right."

"What have you been up to?" She asked, picking up her glass and drinking from it again. Mine continued to sit on the table, untouched and still.

Looking at the ceiling, I told her about my job. I explained how I became roommates with Deej and when I started taking classes. Mostly in the evening, but still classes.

I thought about telling her how often I thought about her. Everyday, wondering what she was doing and if she ever thought of me. But, the fact she didn't know if I was in prison or not sucked.

Courtney seemed to be thinking hard. I can't stop thinking about how she moved on.

"_She doesn't have anyone_." Repeated in my head. Stupid thoughts were contradicting each other.

She sighed, and I turned and looked at her. She looked torn. I couldn't read the facial expression. When Courtney is stressed about something or something is physically painful to say, she grabs at her knees.

Kinda weird I haven't seen this girl in forever yet I'm still picking up on things about her. I don't even think I noticed it at first. I think Ma pointed it out to me one day.

_That's how you know you love a girl_, she probably said. Ma was never wrong though. At least, whenever she talked to me she wasn't.

When I looked away, I think she looked at me. "I'm really happy for you, Duncan." I looked back at her when she used my name. I can't remember the last time she used my name. "I knew one day you'd get yourself together."

"You don't sound happy." I commented, my voice deepening.

"It's not that I'm not happy for you, I just -." she paused, rubbing her legs. "It's raining outside, and I remember DJ saying he lived in the area so I was hoping he would be home so I could wait out the storm. I wasn't expecting you to be here." Courtney wrung her hands. "I wasn't mentally prepared to see you."

"Like -." I started, but she cut me off.

"Like I don't want to sit in silence with you, but I don't really know what to say to you."

So I turned the TV on. Flipped through channels until the local news station appeared. Courtney liked to stay up-to-date; I wanted to see the weather so I knew how long I had before she left.

Mostly, the reporters talked about petty crimes that happened around the city and if the perpetrators were found or not. I've never stared at a TV for so long in my life, outside of rewatching _Total Drama _seasons.

Honestly, this was an improvement past pure ignorance. There was nothing worse than being ignored by Courtney.

That was part of the problem, wasn't it?

"What was?" Courtney asked, confused. Shit.

I said that aloud. "Uh," I started, trying to find the words. That was another problem from before, back when we dated. Like, when we were head over heels and then started fighting. I never took the time to find the words. Should I tell her that? I don't want to sound like a pussy. "I was just thinking about us."

There wasn't an immediate response. "Like, I just hated when you ignored me. Still do."

For the first time, when I looked at Courtney she was looking back at me.

She sat cross-legged in the sofa cushion. "Then what do you want to talk about?"

"I guess first would be the fact you're talking to me."

I smirked when she made a face. One of those, _why does everyone assume things about me that aren't true_ faces. "I don't hate you. You know that, right?"

"No."

Her facial expression turned to one of annoyance, half-lidded eyes and a frown. I kept my smirk, knowing her feeling was temporary. Never forgot how to push the little buttons, I guess.

Head scratch, she's about to admit something. "Well, I guess that makes sense. I was rude to you during the filming of _All Stars. _I was just holding an old grudge."

There it is. The closest thing I'd get to an apology. I drop the smirk. Her body language reads too easy to me. "Courtney, it's fine. All old news."

Haven't said her name in awhile, I guess. My lips feel chapped suddenly; I think I need chapstick.

I looked at her and licked my lips. "I was a dick too. Y'know that already, though. I'd change so much shit if I could go back in time." I think she knows it's the closest I'll get to an apology too.

"I see your language is as vulgar as always." She comments. There's a smile though, at least, a small one.

My smirk returns. A slight upturn of my lip on the right side of my mouth. "Promise it's gotten better." She raises an eyebrow. "Swear on it." I continue.

She looks at the TV again. "I'd change stuff too if I could go back."

There's an obvious need inside of me to ask _what_ and _why _and, even briefly, _who_ would she change. The thought brings up old, sealed wounds from _Action _and all that shit. I choose to ignore the urge. Probably for the best.

This time, the silence was more comfortable. This is the most the two had talked since the filming of _World Tour_. It wasn't a lot, but it was something. I'd call this night a win if it ended right now.

"Ma still asks about you sometimes." I threw out.

After I told Ma the way I was feeling had nothing to do about Gwen, she'd occasionally ask if I was dating anyone. Each time I said no, I could feel the empathy oozing onto my dinner plate.

"Does she?" Courtney responded, hints of hopefulness in her voice.

I threw my hands behind my head and leaned into the couch, getting more relaxed. "Yep. She didn't tell me this to my face, but she misses you." I paused, thinking through my words. Something of a new habit I'm beginning; need to get better at it when I'm pissed off. "You should call sometime, I'm sure she'd like to hear from ya."

That was the truth. _I hope Courtney is well_ rang in my ears, bring an old memory from a conversation I eavesdropped on between my parents sometime before I moved out.

I turned and Courtney looked down at her thighs. Oh shit, she was blushing. She probably missed Ma too - they loved each other. Always ganging up on me, those two.

_I miss you_ I wanted to say, God it's sitting in my chest ready to come out. I wonder if it's sitting in her's too.

"I'll have to call her." Courtney spoke. "I think I still have her number." She pulled out her phone and began scrolling through it. "Hm, that's weird." She mumbled.

I glanced in her direction. "What's up?"

She stared at her phone, before turning it off and setting it back in her jacket. "DJ said he gets off work soon, but that was twenty minutes ago."

The time on the TV read 8:39PM. "Nah." I commented, wheels turning in my head. "He said he's going out for drinks with some of the old contestants today. Won't be back for awhile."

We looked at each other. Fuck.

I sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Wasn't sure if I should be happy or not. Don't even want to look to see Courtney's reaction.

"You want a piece of cake? We have carrot in the fridge." I offer.

* * *

Crumb-ridden plate sat on the coffee table.

I can't listen to the TV. I'm waiting for the words, the _I'm leaving_ words.

We didn't really speak while she ate. Small talk about the weather, basic comments about the new reporters. I can't tell if this is awkward for her or if the fact it's just the two of us makes me uncomfortable.

"Hey, can I tell you something?" I ask. Still not looking at her.

I feel her eyes on me. I'm waiting to hear her _Duncan you can tell me anything _words. The one she used to say to me over the phone in-between seasons. "I'm listening." Was her response.

I swallow, nervous about the response I was going to get. "It was really messed up what I did to you."

I left it at that. She knew what I was talking about. I listened to my heartbeat. There's more I need to say. God admitting when I'm wrong sucks.

"All old news."

Well damn. I turned and looked at her, a smile (that shit, kind of looks like a smirk) on her face. "Really?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, really. I went through all the stupid breakup phases. Sadness, anger, all of it. Albeit some of it was a bit over the top."

"I can't remember the last time the Princess was so forgiving of peasants." I responded, a smirk on my face now.

Head tilt. Raised eyebrow. "We're back to nicknames now, are we?"

Oops. Wait a sec. "Well, that wasn't a flat-out no. Soooo..." I started.

"Duncan." Ah, there it is.

"I hear ya."

I turned back to the TV.

Wonder if she liked hearing it as much as I enjoyed saying it.

There's so much I want to ask. Friends? More? Nothing? I can't tell what she wants and it's killing me, man. What do I even want?

I've never spent this much time with an ex before.

Suddenly, Courtney started talking. About what she'd been up to. "I asked about you without even sharing my life." She said. LSATs, financial literacy, taking online classes at University of British Columbia, working part-time at a bookstore. I absorbed as much as I possibly could. She still talked to Bridgette, something I already knew. Gwen sometimes, which shocked me. And other contestants from our seasons, I just decided I didn't care enough to remember.

Haven't talked to Gwen in some time. She doesn't hold grudges the same way Princess does, though, so I shouldn't be worried about fixing that if I choose to.

"Do you go out with everyone?" I asked once she was done.

Scratched her hair again. Breathless laugh. "Not really. Figured people wouldn't really want me around, as much as Bridgette says everything is fine. Plus I use up a ton of time studying."

"Welcome to the club." I threw my hands up, and began clapping.

She laughed. Wow. Sounds so good. "People like you more than me." Courtney raised an eyebrow.

I stopped clapping and shrugged my shoulders. "Eh, you'd be shocked." I continued. "All the rejects are welcome to Casa de Duncan y DJ at all times."

Another smile. Another eye roll with no heat behind it.

"I'm not mad at you, you know." I threw the comment out. Drank my water. Set the glass on the table. Licked my lips again. "Like, for all the shit that happened during filming. Just figured I should tell you, because, y'know, you're too stubborn to ask about shit sometimes."

When I looked at her, I think her shoulders physically relaxed and tension eased. She wasn't looking at me, but I was looking through her. Knew her too well; she needed to hear that.

She breathed in, and looked down at the floor. "So, none of this was just you faking being nice?"

"Court, you know better than most nice is not my thing." Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow at her. "But no, I'm not _faking _anything. That's dumb." I turned and looked at her. "I'm not really good at faking around you, not at the end of the day."

I used to read her like she was my favorite book, and I hated books. It was the same way on her end too, and she'd admit how well she knows me too.

Really getting a lot off of my chest tonight.

"I -" I moved my body to be facing her for the first time all evening. "I appreciate hearing that, Duncan."

I smiled at her, kind of a pity smile. But a genuine smile too.

Courtney bit her lip, then smiled to herself. "I missed talking to you like this. You know, like when we weren't filming for TV and it was just us."

"Same." I didn't need to think twice. "You ever forget how similar we really are. 'Cause I don't."

Shaking her head _no_, another smile came out of the brunette.

Ok, here we go. "We don't have to like, stop talking once you leave. My number hasn't changed if you still have it." I looked at the ceiling, waiting for the rejection I was accustomed to from _All Stars_.

There was silence as a response. I'm so scared to move my eyes to Courtney. I do it anyway.

She's looking at me. I can't read the expression on her face. "Or not." I quickly add on. "I just-"

"You've changed." Courtney spoke, scooting closer to me. "You're still you, but different. I thought prison changed people for worse?"

I blinked, before a smirk appeared on my face. "Well, most people aren't me. That's where you're wrong."

Cue the eye roll. And the smile. She touched my arm, bare skin hitting each other. She was so warm.

It felt like I walking through the front door back home.

Just as quickly, she removed her hand and stood up. "I should leave. The rain stopped." She pulled her olive jacket over her shoulders and zipped it up.

I stood up. "I still have your number." She continued, as she tucked her scarf into her jacket. "I deleted it, but I know it from memory."

I walked to the door, feeling a chill from the outside. I watched her gather herself. Up the zipper went, out the hair came from inside the jacket. "I know yours from memory too." I replied.

Courtney paused and looked at me, and I tried to smile as best as I could without laughing. "You're the worst." She pulled her hair up into a ponytail. It's past her shoulders now.

Unfortunately, I opened the front door for her and she walked across, before turning and standing on the other side.

This was nice.

"This was nice." She spoke, a smile creeping on her face. "Way better than I would have originally expected it to go."

I chuckled. "That makes two of us." I leaned on the doorway. "Are you free this Saturday? We could grab dinner, my treat?"

Hand on her hip. "Duncan offering to pay for dinner? Now that's new."

"Yeah, I can tell you all about your creepy neighbor."

Oops.

Another eyebrow raise. "My creepy neighbor?"

My awkward _oops I got caught_ laugh."I can explain at dinner. Just know I've been thinking about you."

"That is really weird and creepy." There was a smile on her face, though. Good sign.

Her words threw me back to Wawanakwa, when she was eliminated and I threw my carved skull at her. Those were the first words she said before exclaiming how much she loved it. I wonder if she still has it.

"I actually think you'll like the story." I comment, praying to someone above that it'd be true on Saturday.

I felt giddy. "Alright. Well, I better get going as I wait in anticipation. Thanks for housing me during the storm, Duncan."

"Anytime Princess." I started, slipping up again. "See ya soon."

She waved and began walking towards the elevator.

I waited until she got on before closing the front door.

Ma is gonna be ecstatic when she hears about this.

* * *

Some of structure looks weird and again, mainly because we're inside of Duncan's head so it's truly a train of thought. Hopefully I got his and Courtney's characters down. (Also I didn't really proof-read this bc it's 3AM and I'm tired so if there are any minor issues please ignore them)

Also I'm glad I wrote this! And another shameless plug, but if you enjoyed this feel free to read a story I'm currently working on, _Scales of Judgement_. I think within the next week or two I'll be posting a new chapter for that, which is super exciting for me!

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading this! Stay safe and healthy friends!


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